Bad Habits
by thedeadpen
Summary: It's the cigarettes or me, Yuki. When Yuki ignores this ultimatum and Shuichi doesn't come home from work the next night, is it the cigarettes or something worse keeping him away? Will Yuki stop smoking to bring back his pink haired lover?
1. What would you do for your lover?

Smoking and Yuki. Yuki and smoking. They seem to fit, don't they? But I hate cigarettes. And you know what? So does Shuichi. Why? Because I have temporarily hijacked Maki Murakami's characters and will do whatever I feel like with them until I am satisfied or...well, no, just until I'm satisfied.

* * *

They were both still in bed after sex. Shuichi had curled up against his lover's chest and Yuki was leaned up against the headboard. Then he lit a cigarette.

Shuichi made a big deal of coughing and turning his head away when the silvery smoke began to gather around them, as he'd been doing for a while now. Yuki glared and blew a smoke ring in his general direction.

"Do you _always_ have to smoke after sex?" He whined, refusing to move away but rather stay and pester him.

"Yes. It helps me recover from a traumatizing experience."

Shuichi didn't even bother tearing up. His goal tonight wasn't sympathy and more sex (if anyone was traumatized, it was him- Yuki's sexual appetite was enormous). He wanted his lover to put out the cigarette. He really wanted him to stop smoking permanently. Besides the smoke making his eyes burn, a cigarette was always an excuse for Yuki to ignore him. 'Go away, I'm smoking,' had become an all too common phrase in their house.

But he had an idea. Seeing as neither of them had dressed, Shuichi slowly crawled up and straddled Yuki's waist. Immediately, he knew he had his attention, though Yuki continued to smoke with a neutral expression.

"Yuki..." Leaning in to whisper in the novelist's ear, he tried not to inhale any of the smoke that encircled his head. Instead, he placed his lips over Yuki's earlobe and breathed out. The novelist slightly arched his neck to give Shuichi better access, almost involuntarily, and the musician continued to work his way down. But he was going for lips and his lover's cigarette was only half gone. He'd have to do better.

Seizing the opportunity when the novelist flicked off ashes into the small tray on the bedside table, Shuichi quickly captured him in a kiss, at the same time grinding down onto his lover so that he gasped and deepened the kiss. Shuichi smiled to himself, proud to have at least won the battle.

Or so he thought.

When the kiss was broken, the cigarette was ready to replace his lips. Shuichi gave up and climbed out of bed, taking a sheet with him. Yuki raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You! You'd rather smoke a cigarette than, well, you know..." He ended lamely.

"Have sex? We just did it four times."

"That's not the point. I-I want you to stop smoking."

The novelist shook his head, smiling slightly. "Unbelievable."

"Stop smoking. Or-or I'll leave. For good."

"Good. Then I won't have to deal with your whining."

Shuichi turned and left the room. He wasn't to the point of tears yet, but he was definitely sleeping on the couch tonight. Whether or not Yuki would have let him back into bed was questionable anyway, but he wanted to prove a point. Sure they both knew he wouldn't leave home, but this way Yuki got the message that he really didn't like his smoking. Maybe someday he'd come around...

* * *

Please don't insult me by coming back because you think he'll be kidnapped.That's a bit toocliche, even for me. But Yuki will wake up to an empty house. Why? Come back next chapter- see you there! 


	2. What would you do for your job?

Bad news at the office today. Hope it doesn't interfere with Shuichi's plan...  
And none of these characters are mine, btw.

* * *

Yuki hadn't woken up when Shuichi entered the bedroom to shower and change. He made no special effort to be quiet, as Yuki was an incredibly heavy sleeper when he actually took time to do it. Once he was finished, he headed off to work. The musician almost gave in to the temptation to momentarily rouse the novelist for a kiss, but the full ash tray on the bedside table stopped him. 

"Let him wonder," Shuichi whispered, blowing a kiss through the air. Knowing Yuki, he'd wake up and have completely forgotten last night. But with any luck...

* * *

"You're late." K leveled his choice weapon of the day- an AK-47- at Shuichi's head when he barreled through the door at two minutes past eight, panting from a sprint into the studio. 

"Traffic! It was the traffic!" He looked to Hiro, standing a few feet away, for support and assistance. The guitarist shrugged and played a few more chords on the electric guitar he'd strapped on. Of course this never happened to him.

K made no motion to lower his weapon, but the door behind Shuichi was once again forcibly thrown open, knocking him to the ground just below the assault rifle.

"You're late!" K now looked severely ticked off as Suguru stood there, calmly staring down the barrel of the gun.

"Sorry to have kept everyone waiting," Suguru moved to the side and allowed his cousin to enter. "You can put that away now, K."

"Yes, sir." Without another word, he shrugged and slung the gun across his back. Suguru and Shuichi both heaved sighs of relief.

"Don't think you're getting off that easy, boys. He may be pulling that out again shortly." The musicians all exchanged confused looks. Even K raised an eyebrow. "Let me explain. It would seem that Blah Blah, which I'm sure you know has been the most critical major magazine for promoting Bad Luck, has mistakenly misprinted the release date of your next album. In fact, according to their latest issue, it is due to be released at the end of this week; that's an entire month before originally scheduled."

"I don't see where the problem is for us. Have them reprint it." Hiro spoke sagely as he returned to plucking out chords for the track they'd be laying down today.

"You're a smart boy, Hiroshi. Now tell me, what is the major purpose of any company, if any business?"

"To make money," Suguru had a horrible expression on his face as he began to put things together.

"And do you think Blah Blah would be happy after being burdened with the expense of reprinting and shipping an entire issue? They might blame it on Bad Luck. And an unhappy sponsor isn't good for an up and coming band." He let the last sentence hang in the air as a silent threat.

Hiro's hand suddenly slipped, striking a bad chord. "But we've only laid down one track so far!"

"Then I suggest you get busy. You have three days to get this album together in time to distribute." Tohma flashed them all another smile and turned, pausing beside K on his way out. "Don't let them leave until all 14 tracks are recorded perfectly." K smiled over at the three members of Bad Luck, all dumbfounded.

"You can count on me, sir."

"I never doubted it. I'll send Sakano with food once you've got track four down." With that, he closed and locked the doors.

Shuichi, who'd been watching the happenings in confusion and shock, snapped out of his silence. "What the hell do you think you're doing? We can't record 13 tracks in three days! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

Once again he found the AK-47 pointed at his head as he attempted to launch himself past K.

"I think you must have missed something my friend. It's not negotiable."

"I didn't ask to negotiate! I want out! Tohma, you bastard, get your ass back here!"

K raised his gun and fired it just above Shuichi's head, blowing a hold in the wall behind him. "I think you need to calm down."

"Calm? I'm not shooting off bullets you jack ass! Yuki! HELP ME YUKI!"

"Oh, you think lover boy will come to the rescue? I'd love to show him my gun!" K shot off a few more bullets and laughed.

"You stay away from my Yuki!" Shuichi roared, latching on to the barrel of the firearm. K continued to tease him until the pink haired singer has dissolved into an angry, teary-eyed mess. Hiro and Suguru tried to ignore them.

"We should have seen this coming." Hiro sighed, setting up his equipment. Suguru mutely followed his example, though he looked like he might breakdown at any moment. How they were going to lay down 13 perfect tracks in half a week was beyond all of them.

* * *

I see this as really sucking for the good old members of Bad Luck. Will Yuki be thrilled to have lost his main annoyance? Come back for chapter three! 


	3. What would you do for some peace?

What will Yuki do all alone at home today? Do you think he'll get lonely? Oh, I hope not...poor Yuki... And we all know who owns these characters, and it's not me.

* * *

Yuki leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, shutting his laptop for the time being. He reached for his cigarettes but found the pack empty. That was strange. He'd just opened it last night... 

With an irritated growl, he stood up and stretched, heading for the bedroom. The sheets were still disheveled and called to him temptingly, but he stooped at the bedside table and pulled out another pack from the bottom drawer. It was only when he took a relieved drag from his cigarette that he realized Shuichi hadn't woken him up that morning.

The lively musician normal woke him up by bounding into bed to kiss him goodbye. It was unusual, but he didn't see it as a bad thing at all. As Shuichi had predicted, he'd completely forgotten about last night and the threat his lover had made.

When his cigarette was gone, Yuki resigned himself to a few more hours of work. Figuring that Shuichi had been in a rush or a bad mood, he decided he'd call it an early day and cook something special for the pink haired bundle of energy if he finished a few more chapters. Not too special, just special enough...

He had a cigarette in his mouth while he cooked. With skill gleaned from years of practice, he knew exactly how many puffs he could take before he was in danger of getting ashes in the food.

Unfortunately, he seemed somewhat distracted. Distracted enough to let half an inch of peppery grey burned tobacco dropped into the dish he was stirring. With a frustrated curse, he threw out all of his preparations and started from scratch, now determined to have the perfect meal for his young lover. But he was running out of time. He lit another cigarette, his last one nothing but a butt, and worked at a frantic pace.

Two hours later he threw out his second meal, more than a little upset that Shuichi still hadn't returned. Not even so much as a phone call! Not that he was worried. He was just pissed.

And out of cigarettes again. How did that happen?

But when Yuki examined the ashtray he'd set on the table in front of him, it clearly attested to the fact that he'd just smoked almost an entire pack. He returned to the bedroom, taking out his third pack of the day as he threw himself onto the bed. It was getting dark, and he couldn't see any reason for his lover not to have returned. He lit up another cigarette and took his irritation out on it by chewing the stick into ragged pieces.

_"Stop smoking. Or-or I'll leave. For good."_

"You've got to be kidding me." He spit out the chewed up remained of his last smoke and defiantly lit another one. But he couldn't stand sitting in the dark. Yuki took his cigarettes to his study and reopened the abandoned laptop, cracking his knuckles in preparation for what he thought might be a long night.

When he ran out of cigarettes and energy 7 hours later, the sun was coming up. Shuichi still wasn't home.

And there was only one more pack of cigarettes in the drawer.

* * *

"I'm starving..." Shuichi moaned into the microphone. Not to mention dead tired. There were no windows, but he knew they'd been on lock down in the studio for at least 24 hours. 

"Just get out this last track and we can eat something." Hiro was trying to be calm and unaffected, but a loud rumble from his stomach upset the composed facade.

"Please try to focus, Shindou." Suguru had given up appearances long ago. He pleaded for Shuichi to lay the vocals down again, though it was the dozenth time they'd gone over this song.

K remained untroubled by the fate of his band. "You'll be in for much worse if you don't get this album done in the next 48 hours." He sat on a stool in the corner, polishing his AK-47 to a glossy sheen.

"We still have 10 songs. We'll never make it!" Suguru slumped dejectedly over his keyboard. Shuichi moaned again about his hunger and Hiro didn't have the energy to cheer them on anymore.

"I'm sure your lover boy slept good last night, Shuichi." K cackled, out of the blue.

The vocalist immediately straightened up. "Yuuuukkkkiiiiiii!" He grabbed his mic. "Come on guys, only 10 more tracks after this!" Hiro and Fujisaki exchanged knowing looks and began to catch their lead singer's momentary enthusiasm. They nailed the recording.

"Well, it looks like you've earned your reward." K pulled out a cell phone and called someone upstairs. "They've finished, you can bring down their table scraps now. But hurry up, our boys still have plenty of work to do!"

The three groaned collectively, but they knew that food was on the way. They'd need it to get through the next two days.

"I hope it's something nice," Suguru sighed.

"I could go for a steak or something. But even instant noodles would be a king's banquet right now." Hiro said.

"I wish it were Yuki..."

* * *

Day one went well for everyone, right? Well, I enjoyed it... I wonder what will happen tomorrow (because right now, I really don't know...). 


	4. What would you do for a cigarette?

And I return! I don't own these characters. Away we go!

* * *

Yuki didn't get out of bed until noon. He'd only been sleeping for a few hours, lightly, and knew that the undisturbed sheets on the other side of the bed meant that he'd been alone the entire time.

He reached immediately for his cigarettes. Damn that stupid pink haired punk. Crushing the empty pack in his hands, he nearly ripped the door off the bedside cabinet to get to his last pack. He'd lock himself in his office and make it last all day. He'd write himself into exhaustion again and not bother to think about cooking dinner for Shuichi. And if he didn't come home again, even better. It was much quieter when he wasn't around, and he could smoke whenever the hell he felt like it without hearing that pitiful whining.

Except he normally complained about the smoke after sex, and he hadn't been there to have sex last night.

* * *

"He's not kidding when he tells them to send down the table scraps, is he?" Suguru eyed what looked like the crust of a piece of white bread on the floor distastefully, but he was hungry enough to wolf it down as soon as Shuichi started to reach for it. 

"As long as we're eating at all." Hiro said around a mouthful of a slimy textured meat. He figured if he got food poisoning, he was going to get out of there sooner than he would waiting for them to finish the album. They'd only got two tracks in 12 hours, but K had been forced to get them food after Shuichi collapsed during takes for the seventh track.

He hadn't known at the time that it was just a ploy to get Sakano down the stairs so he could try to hold him hostage. As soon as he walked through the door with the food, Shuichi grabbed him. He dropped the tray, which is why they were eating the food off the floor.

As for Shuichi, he never stood a chance of getting out the door using Sakano as a shield. K didn't care who he had to go through to carry out his orders of keeping them there until all fourteen tracks were ready to be sold.

They had to bring down a stretcher to carry out Sakano, who passed out as soon as K started firing. The manager made sure Shuichi didn't get anywhere near the paramedics, and almost refused to allow him to eat, but gave in after he tearfully promised to never do it again and to volunteer the next time K wanted to practice shooting with a moving target.

So now they sat there, barely talking, stuffing as much food into their mouths as they could. It was starting to sink in that their careers and quite possibly their lives depended upon them getting out eight more tracks in the next 36 hours. If they ended up doing it, they'd have to change their band name to Dumb Luck.

* * *

If he thought prison life would agree with him, Yuki would have snapped the neck of the young male shop owner who was the fourth to tell him that they didn't carry his brand of cigarettes, then had the nerve to ask him for his autograph. And by his idiotic grinning, Yuki knew that wasn't all he wanted. Stupid punk kids. 

He refrained from stomping him into a bloody pulp, but made sure he got the message that Yuki wasn't interested loud and clear. He left him in tears and felt a little better as he left the store and moved on down the street.

Not one damn tobacco shop within walking distance. The old man he usually bought cigarettes from had apparently went off and died or something, probably just to spite him, and his shop was closed. Well he never _bought_ cigarettes anywhere else, so how the hell was he supposed to know where they sold what had to be hardest to get cigarettes in Japan?

Damn it all to hell. He needed a fucking smoke. Why did it have to be so complicated?

If he hadn't been in the middle of a serious nic fit, he'd have probably realized how out of character it was for him to be worried about it. He'd never considered himself addicted to smoking, it was just something he did to pass the time every once in a while. It was highly unusual for him to smoke even an entire pack in a day, but to go through a carton in half a week was serious.

But like I said, he was in the middle of a nic fit and not exactly thinking clear and calm.

Yuki threw open the doors of a drug store on the corner and made a bees line for the check out desk. Another young blond male came off his display to help him, and Yuki swore to himself that if he asked for an autograph, he was dead. But he seemed more terrified than conversational as Yuki asked for his cigarettes and ground his teeth while he went to check.

He turned around when he felt eyes boring holes into the back of his head. His glare was met with the uninterested expression of a stoic, but Yuki could tell he was extremely agitated by his presence. Or maybe it was because of who was helping him, which didn't occur to the novelist until the blond returned to tell him they did have the cigarettes in stock and his eyes narrowed dangerously without anything else about him changing. The blond noticed nothing.

Yuki blew off the stocker and asked for three more cartons, which he paid for and tore into at once. With a nervous look, the blond returned to setting up a cold medicine display by the door. The tall, dark stoic was suddenly directly beside Yuki.

"You can't smoke in here." He meant to be menacing, but Yuki didn't scare easily. And he was feeling a lot better with a cigarette between his lips.

"Well, _Rikuo_," He grinned, reading the male's nametag. "It's a good thing I was just leaving." And just to piss the boy off, he stopped by the blond on his way and read his name before addressing him. "Thanks for the help, Kazahaya. Be sure to keep these in stock. I'll be back to see you again." He waved at Rikuo and blew him a farewell smoke cloud. A couple of closet cases if he'd ever seen any.

The blond hadn't even been bad looking, but he was a bit young for Yuki's taste. Then again, so was Shuichi. And suddenly he was as unhappy and frustrated as he'd been before he got his cigarettes. He carelessly let the butt fall to the sidewalk. He didn't care if he got stopped and fined. Now he just wanted to get home. Maybe he wouldn't be returning to an empty house.

* * *

Surprise! Or maybe most of you didn't realize the Legal Drug cameo. It was a kind of spur of the moment thing that didn't really distract from the story but was fun (I don't own Rikuo or Kazahaya, either). If you don't know about LD (which happens to be a shonen-ai (boy love) series), I have several fics in that category and the manga is awesome as well. I have no idea what kind of cigarettes Yuki smokes, so I don't bother to mention a brand name, sorry. And that's it for now! Hopefully I get another chapter up soon, right? I'll try... 


	5. What would you do for epiphany?

No I don't own a single character, but if you'll forgive that I think you'll enjoy this chapter. I had fun writing it at least.

* * *

"Shuichi, what are you doing?"

"You're going to get us all shot!" Suguru cried.

"Not if you shut your big fat mouth and don't draw his attention." Shuichi whispered. This was his chance. Maybe he couldn't get out short of being in a body bag until their album was recorded, but he'd slipped Sakano's cell phone into his pocket after he collapsed in front of him earlier and now he could get in touch with Yuki.

"You're going to let me call Ayaka with that thing later, right?" Hiro asked, playing a few measures of the song they were working on to cover the sound of Shuichi dialing.

"Be quiet. Oh my God, it's ringing! Yuki!"

"Be quiet!" Hiro and Suguru whispered in unison.

He had tears of joy in his eyes as the phone rang across town. A phone that Yuki would be on the other end of. He could talk to him, tell him how sorry he was for not coming home and how much he missed him.

"You have reached the Uesugi and Shindou residence. Please state who you are calling for and leave a message after the-" The mechanical beep almost killed the fragile singer. It had taken him forever to get Yuki to let him change the recording, and he'd called Shuichi and idiot for cutting it off, but he once caught Yuki calling the house from his cell just to hear the message.

"Yuki! Yuki, it's me! K's holding us hostage at the studio! Blah Blah printed the wrong release date for our album and now we have a day to finish it or...or...wah! Yuki, I want to come home! I-"

"Now Shuichi, hostage is a harsh term."

"Shindou, watch out!" Suguru ducked behind his keyboard as K sprayed the booth with ammunition.

"Yuki, I'm-" A bullet shattered the cell phone and Shuichi screamed.

"So much for my phone call." Hiro muttered, hiding beside Suguru as K pumped their vocalist full of lead.

* * *

Yuki didn't bother to hit the flashing button on the answering machine when he got home. He wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone. There were no other shoes sitting by the door. Shuichi wasn't there. 

And no his third cigarette in ten minutes wouldn't make him feel better, but he set the three cartons on the table beside the answering machine and lit up another one. He remembered watching Shuichi make that stupid recording and was even more annoyed. He was starting to wonder if he should even let the vocalist in if he decided to come back.

He wasn't hungry. His stomach was probably so full of cigarette smoke that there wasn't room for anything else. He stuck another pack into his pocket and headed back to his office. He was too disgusted to work. He blew deformed smoke rings into the air and sighed heavily several times. He felt restless and distracted.

It just didn't make sense. Why hadn't he come home?

_"Stop smoking. Or-or I'll leave. For good."_

"Come _on_." Yuki whispered to himself, moodily smashing his half smoked cigarette into the full ashtray on desk. Who the hell makes a threat like that? And who follows through on it?

Over the last two days it had become such a habit to grab another cigarette when he finished one that he did so then. He stared at it for a second. What if he wanted to smoke? What if he _liked_ to smoke?

Did that mean he couldn't want Shuichi, too? Couldn't like him? Not that he did. Mostly. Were they both habits?

Could he break either one of them?

* * *

"Okay, boys! Are we ready to get back to work?" Hiro and Suguru nodded frantically, but Shuichi couldn't move his neck. He really couldn't move at all. The emergency medic that someone had had the good sense to send down after the fire fight had wrapped him up like a mummy. But when positioned properly in front of his microphone, all he had to do was sing. No more escape attempts for him. 

"Great! Because we only have 18 hours to get out the last five songs!" He held up his gun, clearly telling them what would happen if they didn't finish. "But don't worry, I have faith in you! Especially you Shuichi. I predict you're about to catch your second wind. So let's get to it!" He laughed maniacally as he left the booth.

"Shuichi, are you sure you're okay?" Hiro whispered, starting with his intro.

"Uh-huh." He smiled, tears silently streaming down his face. His only option now was a body bag.

* * *

Had to amend this ending comment. Broke the last chapter into two chapters, but both are up so no big deal for anyone. Right? Read on... 


	6. What would you do for another chance?

Don't own a character, nope.

* * *

Was it possible? Could they actually finish this album in time? The crowd that started to appear in the studio when they only had a few hours left either thought so or wanted to be around to see the death of Bad Luck by manager following president's orders. 

But they'd always loved a crowd. Even the minimal energy was infectious. They stopped recording because they were on a deadline and started performing because there was an audience to entertain.

Bad Luck never left and audience unsatisfied. Tohma and Sakano even made an appearance at their in-studio concert to see them nail their next to last song on the second try. They hadn't been able to do that two days ago when they were well fed and rested.

Then there was only one to go. Shuichi looked at Hiro and Suguru, who were more alive than they'd been in days, and they all nodded. First recording. They could do it.

And they did. The people crowded outside the booth went wild. They seemed as excited as the band members were. Word of their imprisonment must have spread through the entire building. It might have even reached the tabloid. It was a great story- platinum album recorded in three days!

They'd better not expect them to do it again, though.

"That was excellent, you three." Tohma let himself into the booth as they congratulated each other and started to set down and shut down the equipment. They were more than ready to get out of there. Even the audience had already left. Shuichi wondered what time it was. "But I wouldn't pack up just yet."

He blanched. "More? There's more?" Suguru and Hiro didn't look anymore prepared for the announcement than he was.

"Well, you see, your rousing performance was great for the stage, but unless we're recording a live show, we still need all those part separately. And no background cheering this time. Don't cry Shindou, you've done an incredible job here. Just this one last thing and you can get home. I'm sure Eiri will be happy to see you."

He wasn't even able to summon the energy to be excited about the prospect of seeing Yuki again. But he missed him, the moody, irritable author who teased him endlessly and infuriated him at every turn. Even his stupid cigarettes.

"You're the boss." He sighed, turning to his band. "One last time." He pleaded. Hiro wanted to be home to call Ayaka and Suguru wanted to go out and see his secret lover, no doubt.

"What's another few hours?" Hiro laughed.

"At least there's an end in sight." Suguru cracked his knuckles and played a scale.

Shuichi smiled. He couldn't think of two better people to be locked in a room with for three days. "Okay. We're ready when you techies are." He called into his mic.

* * *

Sometime between the first and second carton of cigarettes Yuki had started to write. Now by trade, he was a novelist, but every now and then he turned out a short story. This was one of those short story times. 

He surprised himself with how rapidly he churned out the story, a troubled romance (weren't they all?) about a man following the footsteps of his self destructive scorned lover leading up to her suicide on the anniversary of their final meeting.

It took someone truly impassive to not get depressed after writing that. But like most writers, Yuki was a troubled person on the inside and wrote to escape his troubles, not to fall into them. Therefore, short story was a quick fix to numb some current turmoil brewing in him.

The heavy curtains in his office kept the sun out, but his computer clock told him it was just after dawn when he finished. He smoked the last cigarette in another pack as he waited for the story to print. Maybe he'd drive it to his editor's later. He was sick of his own house and getting sicker of it with each puff of smoke that filled the room. He was making himself into a prime candidate for cancer, though.

Because any time your ashtray is so full of cigarettes, as his was then, that you can't put another one out, you're probably smoking too much. Yuki swept his hand across the desk in disgust and whisked the entire ashtray, butts, ashes and all, into the trashcan beside his desk. He dropped the empty pack on top and stood up. If he was going out, he at least needed to shower.

* * *

"So we're done this time?" Shuichi dared to hope he could leave now. 

"You're done. All that's left are the finishing touches. You've all worked hard. You can go now. If we need anything else, we can get it tomorrow." Tohma smiled and held the door open for them to pass.

They didn't even protest. As long as they got to leave for a little while. If they had to stay in that recording booth any longer, Shuichi swore he was going to kill himself. They showed themselves up into the lobby.

"Hey, Bad Luck. Stop right there." No! They were almost out on the sidewalk, home free! It's not right to snatch away freedom like that.

But they all turned.

"K!" Suguru shouted. He still had his oversized gun slung over his shoulder.

"Where the hell have you been?" Shuichi had almost forgot that he'd been holding them hostage. He couldn't remember seeing him in hours. After a while they knew they weren't getting out before they finished.

"I was waiting for someone to try sneaking away." He mimed scoping out a target and blasting them back into last week, before things go so out of control.

"Otherwise known as napping?" Hiro pointed to the red marks on the side of his face that looked like the barrel of his gun.

"Exactly!" Their manager was one scary guy. "But the point is, I wanted to tell you to go ahead and take a few days off."

"What about the president?" Suguru asked.

"I'll take care of him." Shuichi looked at K's assault rifle and a part of him hoped he would take care of Tohma, but he didn't say it. No sense in jeopardizing himself when he was this close to getting away.

"All right." Shuichi nodded. "I'll see you guys next week." He waved and started walking. He wanted out and he was leaving before someone else changed their minds. He wanted to get home to real food, a warm bed, and Yuki.

Maybe not in that order.

* * *

Loving this? Next chapter is the last. Will they finally meet at home or will one of them have a tragic accident, keeping them apart forever? -shrugs- Go find out. 


	7. What would you do for the one you love?

And as we draw to a close, I want to thank all of you for reading. I had a blast with this story, and it took me places I never intended it to. And for the finale, another Legal Drug appearance and the innuendo of bedroom fluff, or that tragic accident I hinted at? -shrugs again- I don't own these characters, like I know what they'll do.

* * *

Yuki's editor loved the unexpected visit, and loved the story even more. She raved about knowing just were to submit it to, what rights to sell off where to get him the most profit and exposure, nothing that really concerned him. He'd only stuck around to meet with the head of the publishing company and hear about what a valuable and honored client he was because he didn't want to be at home. But there was only so much of that he could stand. 

He dreaded returning to his smoke filled house, even though he lit up another cigarette as soon as he got back to his car. He didn't really _want_ one, but didn't know what else he wanted (or more likely, didn't know how to get it). He certainly wasn't going looking for the biggest problem in his life. If he came back on his own, fine. If not, fine.

Be he needed to do something about that tobacco smell. He was already driving by, so he stopped at the same pharmacy he'd visited to get his cigarettes. Again, he didn't know if he was in the right place to get what he was looking for, but he might as well try. Maybe teasing the brooding stocker would make him feel better. His reactions weren't nearly as entertaining as Shuichi's, but he'd take what he could get right now.

He was greeted as soon as he entered.

"I remember you." It was the blond again, stocking another display of cold medicine. His friend was no where in sight, but another, older man in sunglasses was leaning against the wall and didn't seem to be there to shop. "Back for more cigarettes?" Yuki raised an eyebrow and he blushed. "I-I'm sorry if that was assuming. I-" Now there was one that had definite Shuichi in him. Maybe it was all kids, and he just happened to get stuck with the pink haired singer.

"It's fine. No, I'm not here for cigarettes. Where's your friend?"

"Rikuo?" He blushed deeper. Okay, a bit to obvious. Maybe he liked Shuichi a little bit. "You're looking for-? He's off today. If you-"

"Nevermind. I wasn't looking for him, I was looking for candles. Do you have any?"

"Candles? Right. Yes, over on the back wall." He pointed and Yuki nodded and went to find them. It was a small selection, but he found a few he liked. He probably wouldn't have to burn them for long, they were pretty strong.

Kazahaya saw him coming back up to the front. "Are you ready?" Yuki nodded and his candles were rung up.

"And here's your change." He took the offered coins.

"Thank you. And don't worry, I won't come back and try to steal him from you." They both knew who he was talking about. Yuki laughed to himself and left. He'd been so close to telling the boy he had someone of his own. But did he really?

He hoped so.

* * *

The stupid answering machine light was still blinking when Yuki got home. It was the first thing he saw when he opened the door. The second was the unlaced sneakers that had been hurriedly kicked off. 

He knew the feeling. All he wanted to do was drop his candles, kick off his shoes, and race inside to find...what he hoped to find was...

But Yuki didn't race anywhere. He set the candles on the table beside the answering machine and his last carton of cigarettes and walked calmly into the living room. He heard nothing. Had those shoes been sitting there all week? Was he fooling himself now?

Then the faintest snore caught his ear. He felt his heart skip a beat. That only happened in the corniest love scenes. Shuichi was back.

He'd arrived home to no real food and no Yuki and gave up on a warm bed halfway there to pass out on the couch. He was sleeping as heavily as Yuki did after he met a deadline. The novelist would have been proud in his own way if he'd known what Shuichi had been through in the last few days.

But he didn't, and he didn't want to wake him up to find out. He just wanted to sit on the couch beside him and watch the rising and falling of his chest. Because it calmed the disquiet that had filled his mind, that he'd tried to fill with cigarettes and words, when it hadn't needed anything but this.

It was a while before Yuki could pull himself away. When he did, he went straight to the table beside the door, grabbed the candles and the carton of cigarettes, and took them both to his bedroom. The cigarettes went into the cabinet and two candles were lit and set on the headboard in place of the ashtray that he moved to the stand on his side of the bed for lack of a better place. It was a start.

He lit another candle and left it in the hall on the way to the bedroom, and two more went in the living room in front of the couch. Then he went to the kitchen. Even when he slept Shuichi couldn't hide his most basic desires. Yuki could hear his stomach grumbling in the next room as he cooked quietly.

It was dark before he finished all of his preparations. He left his perfect meal simmering on the stove, but Shuichi probably would be up to eat it tonight. He didn't think he'd mind if he had to throw it out this time.

The candles had burned down to potent wax puddles that shone soft golden light on Shuichi when Yuki went back into the living room. He knelt onto the couch again and touched Shuichi's face lightly. He'd been afraid to do it earlier, for fear of waking him up or discovering that he wasn't really there at all.

But now Shuichi stirred and Yuki bent down to him. "You shouldn't sleep on the couch, idiot." He whispered.

"Yuki..." His eyes fluttered but never fully opened. He was still exhausted.

"Shh. Come on." Yuki wrapped the younger boy's arms around his neck and scooped him up bridal style. He blew out the candles in the living room and the hall as he carried the singer to bed.

Shuichi woke again for a few moments when Yuki set him down. "Mm..." He didn't let the novelist pull away, but drew him down and buried his head in his neck. "Smells good. Missed...you...Yu..." He trailed off and his hands loosened.

Yuki laughed to himself.

"Yeah. Welcome home, Shuichi. It's...good to have you back." Even when he knew his lover was sleeping it was hard to say it out loud. But it was good to have him back. So good.

Yuki let Shuichi sleep on his shoulder until the last two burning candles put themselves out, then wrapped his arms around the younger boy and fell asleep as well.

* * *

Shuichi pulled the bed sheet over his nose and mouth and glared at Yuki, who stared innocently down at him with a cigarette dangling from his lips. 

Two days after Shuichi had come home things were back to normal. He was well rested (or had been until Yuki got a hold of him a few hours ago), and they both had a few more days off to relax, maybe even enjoy each others company a little bit, if only from the comfort of the bedroom.

"What?" It was his first cigarette all day. He was already going to throw a fit about it?

They'd both put the last week out of their minds after Shuichi explained what happened. Yuki didn't bother telling him what he'd been doing while his lover was gone.

"Can't you _not_ smoke right now?" Yuki blew his a smoke cloud and Shuichi dropped the sheet and moved to the other end of the bed.

"Where are you going?" He asked. His heart sped up for a minute. A little to deja vu for his taste.

"I hate it when you smoke. I'm going to-"

"Hey- hey." He smashed the cigarette in the ashtray beside him. "Better?" Shuichi looked stunned. Yuki smirked and pulled him back up to the top of the bed. "I really wanted a cigarette, though." He murmured. "You're going to have to distract me."

Within five minutes Yuki was glad he'd opted to Shuichi over a smoke this time.

Some habits grip us stronger than others.

* * *

Well, it's been a pleasure. I recommend any of my other fics. All are yaoi and full of my wonderful humor, wit, and...I don't know, whatever else kept you reading this. I hope you don't just have bad taste... 


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